Events have begun to converge again, so that I am torn apart by all the possibilities. In my 20 year experience of life on this planet, little as though it may be, it always seems to me that life unfolds like an accordion, sending out forever-oscillating ripples. Periods of hard work and no play and bleak prospects followed by everything happening all at once, all the doors flung open and so much luck and joy it feels unreal. Not that I won the Powerball or anything, but I feel things shifting and gears groaning forward, reacting slowly to the backbreaking work it took to push them into motion again. Maybe it’s the start of spring and the beginning of a very interesting season for me, full of so many decisions whose ripples I cannot foresee. When I’m 70 I shall maybe write a book about it all because maybe everyone will think I lived through a crazy time and will want to know what went on in the minds of the strange people that were alive back then. And who knows, maybe I will have.
This past Sunday I had to get out of the house so I took Jake to walk around lower Manhattan and stumbled upon Little Italy, which was only a block away from my office. It was great to see a familiar part of town in a different light and the Instagram has been blowing up ever since.